that's a good way to think about it. who's sly stone, though? all of those records on that Original Album Classics thing are pretty great. Such Sweet Thunder, the shakespeare one, has some amazing stuff.

I've been collecting versions of Duke Ellington's "Caravan" for a while now. My favorite is a hidden track at the end of a best of Ferlin Husky CD. Or is it the Three Suns'? For some reason this song inspired the maddest cover versions, especially in the '60s.

so my sister got me the "private collection" (all ten discs) for xmas. haven't waded through all of it, but everything so far is great. some of the ate 50s live shows, like at air force bases or something, are fab, really loose. you can hear the band talking to each other during songs onstage.

I thought those were mostly studio recordings? I have a volume five, which includes of "The Degas Suite" and "The River," both of which are totally sprawling and brilliant. "The River" also has a section that prefigures "Portrait Of Mahalia Jackson," later to feature in the New Orleans Suite (and one of the most stunning moments in Ellington's oeuvre).

yeah, that book is great, i just read it last month. not heavy on the personal life stuff (which is maybe a good thing?) but just sort of a fascinating journey through duke's career, with all kinds of fantastic details. even though it sounds kinda dull, the info about his finances is really interesting. always thought that maybe duke was exaggerating when he said he lost money keeping his band on retainer all those years, but it looks like it was true. he just loved having a band always there to play his music.

What was shocking to me was how long his (financially) fallow period was. I assumed it was for maybe 3 or 4 years in the 50s; turns out it was nearly ten years. I suspect it's impossible to get too into his personal life, since he was so guarded; Mercer's autobiography goes more into it than any other Ellington book, but it mostly amounts to things anyone could have guessed (flying into a seething rage upon hearing of Strayhorn's death, for instance).

yeah, in re: to finances, it's obvious he could've, at some point, just dissolved his band and just become a kind of freelance celebrity musician, and probably been a lot more successful in a business sense. have you ever read music is my mistress? i haven't and the descriptions in this new book don't make it sound very essential.

One of my favorite parts of the book is describing how Ellington and Irving Mill quite consciously marketed him as a "genius" and a composer as much as a band leader and recording artist, which bought Duke the time and leeway to become a genius composer. They were incredibly clever about balancing showbiz concerns with high art, making the pressures complement each other, rather than being in opposition.

I listen to late Ellington more than the early Ellington at this point. That podcast hits upon a lot of my favorite tracks- Ocht O'Clock, Ad Lib in Nippon, Blood Count. I've never heard the ballet they mention.

I listen to late Ellington more than the early Ellington at this point. That podcast hits upon a lot of my favorite tracks- Ocht O'Clock, Ad Lib in Nippon, Blood Count. I've never heard the ballet they mention.

It ("The River") is on The Private Collection, Vol. 5. It's brilliant and fascinating, and also contains the germ of what would later become "Portrait Of Mahalia Jackson" (from The New Orleans Suite), one of his most heartbreaking themes.

yeah, in re: to finances, it's obvious he could've, at some point, just dissolved his band and just become a kind of freelance celebrity musician, and probably been a lot more successful in a business sense. have you ever read music is my mistress? i haven't and the descriptions in this new book don't make it sound very essential.

True about how he could've otherwise dealt with his financial situation, but with his band as his instrument, he would have probably felt somewhat adrift and unfulfilled.

I've read MIMM, and it's kind of goofy and all over the place. It's not chronological, and one chapter is usually a non-sequitur to the previous chapter (i.e., Chapter 4: Louis Bellson was a great drummer! Chapter 5: I really enjoy a good steak!) I mean, it's a fun read, kind of like going to dinner with Duke and listening to him talk for about six hours. But it's not the least bit revealing, unless you count an exact account of every single restaurant meal he ever ate in his entire life.

The Whitney gig is a lot of fun; he plays some of his earliest material (and laughs with the audience about him being unable to play it now). Reminds me of James Booker just hanging out and reeling off medleys.

It's not well known, but it's on iTunes and it's got a bunch of great live performances from the early sixties. The trio bits are recorded in this Italian garden, I think, so there's tons of crickets etc, which sounds awful but it's really magical.

actually, I love all the room noise in his 60s recordings- he had a lot more open space in his work, and with recording fidelity improving there's cool little details. Like the guy going "dink-da-dink-dink" in between the call and response on "Limbo Jazz"

The Definitive Songs. The Definitive Orchestra. And Now...The DEFINITIVE Edition.The Complete 1932-1940 Brunswick, Columbia, and Master Recordings ofDuke Ellington and His Famous Orchestra

After achieving youthful acclaim in Washington, and making a successful move to New York fronting (at first) small groups, Duke Ellington entered the 1930s with an expanded line-up and an increasingly creative approach to composing. Weekly radio broadcasts and swank guests in the audience spread the word; Hollywood noticed his marquee smile and musical brilliance; and the orchestra began touring extensively, including trips to Europe. His fame and popularity were on the rise.

But more importantly, Ellington entered the '30s having perfected his method of using the group to experiment with arranging and orchestrating. Ensconced at the Cotton Club in New York at the end of the previous decade, Ellington catered to a lot of musical interests and needs - he played for the dancers, and for the jazz lovers. He relied on ideas from his musicians, and wrote for them as individuals rather than as anonymous section players. With all that work and a line-up of marvelous, distinctive musical voices, Ellington began the most creative period of his life.

"Sophisticated Lady." "Stormy Weather." "Solitude." "In a Sentimental Mood." "Echoes of Harlem." "Caravan." All of them and many more are a part of "The Complete 1932-1940 Brunswick, Columbia, and Master Recordings of Duke Ellington and His Famous Orchestra," an unprecedented 11-CD set that compiles these recordings for the first, and quite possibly the last, time. There would be many more exceptional compositions in the years following, including his highly regarded suites and longer works, but the scope of our latest, lavish Mosaic collection is the period when Ellington would establish himself as the most important composer ever in jazz.

Musicians Created Their Own Voices, and Interpreted His

"Jazz, if it means anything, means freedom of expression," he told writer Stanley Dance. And express himself is what he did, through the instruments of stalwarts and newcomers to the orchestra who not only created personality for Ellington's band - they were, in many instances, standard bearers in their own right for their respective instruments.

Barney Bigard on clarinet and tenor saxophone established links to the past with his New Orleans-style runs, executed with exceptional warmth. Harry Carney was the only important soloist on baritone saxophone for years, and the big bottom his instrument provided brought real gravity to the Ellington sound. The great trumpeter Cootie Williams joined to replace the fallen Bubber Miley, quickly perfecting Miley's growl and mute techniques while creating his own sound with the open horn. He was a master of establishing mood and emotion. Lawrence Brown had a ringing tone on trombone, which complemented Joe "Tricky Sam" Nanton's earthy growl and Juan Tizol's fat sound. Trumpeter Arthur Whetsel, saxophonist Otto Hardwick, and the inimitable Sonny Greer on drums were all associates from the earliest days in Washington. Ben Webster began perfecting his tenor saxophone style during a brief mid-'30s stint with the band before being offered a permanent position in 1940. Late in the decade, Ellington discovered Jimmy Blanton, who would revolutionize bass playing with his terrific sense of swing and dead-on intonation before illness led to a tragically early death. And what can be said about Johnny Hodges, the silky smooth alto saxophonist who influenced generations of musicians? He was, in a line-up of superstars, a cut above all.

Ellington made use of them all, for their personal styles as well as for his own unique voicings that placed trombones at the apex of their range and clarinets at the bottom, or by putting unusual notes in the baritone instead of giving the instrument the chord's dominant tone. His compositions, the unique personal style of his players, his innovative arrangements, and his confidence in his soloists to raise any composition to a new level, combined to provide him with a palette unequaled in music.

The Complete Collection

Our set comprises a massive 11 discs featuring well over 100 Ellington compositions. In addition to the above-named musicians, guest stars Bing Crosby, Ethel Waters and the Mills Brothers make notable appearances. Ellington's female vocalist Ivie Anderson proves she was tailor-made for the band along with other superb band-mates Freddie Jenkins and Wallace Jones on trumpet, Fred Guy on banjo and guitar, Wellman Braud, Billy Taylor and Hayes Alvis on bass, and the unique cornetist Rex Stewart.

The exclusive Mosaic booklet includes a complete discography of the dates, a revealing essay and track by track analysis by Steven Lasker, and a number of rarely seen photographs. We urge you to order early - like all Mosaic sets, this edition is strictly limited, and given the importance of the music it contains, we're expecting significant interest.

Yeah, I read it, it was great -- a little discussion of it upthread. One of the rare autobios where I came out of it with even more respect for the subject. He wasn't a saint, but it seems like he lived his life in a generally admirable way. For a genius anyway.